Arawn had tried to smile, Laon hadn’t missed the effort. He turned to him with a quick, encouraging grin, and squeezed his arm.
He had no idea what Gyoza was, but he’d nodded when she suggested they have some. “I’m Laon,” he introduced. “And this is Arawn. It’s nice to meet you. We’d like to try some, they smell really good.”
He might have tried to shake her hand, but she had only just set the platter down, and he was pretty sure his hands were sweating. Honestly, he felt ridiculous for being so worked up. Remarque would have told them to stay home if he didn’t think they could benefit from being here, and there was literally a table full of food.
Good food. Homemade food. Not the cheap, hyper-processed things he could make, or the fast food they could pick up.
He wanted to make a plate. Desperately wanted to eat a plate. The food on the table was calling to him.
…But so was their host.
His heart dropped a little, but at least there was still food involved in this game.
He knew Arawn could be rough around the edges–but, really! He was great once you got to know him! Or, once he trusted you enough to let you get to know him, but still–so it meant that he needed to put a little extra effort to be the honey to Arawn’s vinegar.
There weren’t that many people here, and he’d already had to do a presentation in front of his class recently, so he was a little more comfortable speaking up in front of a group. Just a little, though.
He offered an apologetic smile to Kore and hoped she knew that he was serious about coming back to try her gyoza.
He knew Murikabushi only by his introduction, but he couldn’t help glancing at Telesto to make sure he wasn’t offended.
He was already in panic mode, though. He had no allergies. Their host most certainly would not fill a croissant with earwax–could anyone even get so much to fill a whole croissant, much less several? He’d said they were edible.
Laon felt a lump in his throat, but he wasn’t so far from the table that it was awkward for him to reach over and grab a croissant. He hardly looked at them, he didn’t smell or touch or judged them. He grabbed one, and in a panic, took a bite.
And–it was good. Really good, actually. He was so ready for earwax, or vinegar, or salt, but it was like–chocolate? And some other flavor? He didn’t know what it was, but he definitely wanted Arawn to try this one. After he finished this bite.
chi honda
Guine
MercilessMime
Guine rolled 1 4-sided dice:
3Total: 3 (1-4)
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2024 11:29 am
Super Sailor Arawn, Dark Mirror Senshi of Cŵn Annwn Action: Spitefully enthusiastic about the game (and more enthusiastic about food in general). Isn't sure what a croissant should taste like but is going to eat his toothpaste and enjoy it.
Goyza? He’d never heard of it, but he supposed it seemed acceptable if it was made with the things Kore said they were made from. He didn’t offer his name, even if she seemed nice.
He didn’t care if these people knew him. It was probably better if they didn’t know him. If Laon gave his name to others, then that was fine, so he didn’t say anything when Laon introduced him to Kore, but Arawn knew it was best he kept his mouth shut.
Or at least his teeth shut because he was still baring them.
Which didn’t at all help the irritated growl that escaped as some a*****e decided they were going to talk about unity and strength and something something, Arawn wasn’t sure but he couldn’t comprehend half of what the man (Telesto) was saying anyway.
A game sounded like a waste of time. Arawn hated games that involved a lot of people.
But… he did like food.
And they were all supposed to be edible.
“Oh, ******** off. As if knowing names would make anyone any more trustworthy,” Arawn snapped at the off brand Barbie doll named… he didn’t catch the name (Murikabushi). Was it a car company? He didn’t care.
“Go be hungry somewhere else,” he growled, striding forward to the chair next to Laon and snatching up the croissant. Nearly half of it was shoved into his mouth to aggressively chew.
It wasn't exactly a flavor that he would have preferred but at this point he was so on edge that he didn't care when he shoved another bite into his mouth, and then another. It was food anyway. At least it seemed as though Laon wasn't disgusted by whatever flavor he got. That was all that mattered.
chi honda
MercilessMime
amorremanet
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Quote:
Blanket apology for Arawn. orz
Guine
Crew
Lonely Explorer
Online
MiddyGlow rolled 1 4-sided dice:
2Total: 2 (1-4)
MiddyGlow
Sparkly Fairy
Offline
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2024 12:17 pm
Rolling will edit later
2 = Their croissant is filled with a delicious chocolate-matcha crème.
Morpheus was very pleased with the croissant he had gotten, he smiled a little as he ate it. Sitting off to the side with only his bird for company. He was not a very social guy but the feeling of being around other mirror senshi was kinda nice.
Super Murikabushi of Hunger Action: Snarking. Still abstaining from Telesto’s game, soz.
“Hunger is just my sphere, Red Vines,” Reiki pointed out in response to what he took as an attempted dig that: A., cut about as deeply as a puddle; and B., seemed, to Reiki, like maybe the two of them had misunderstood each other in the first place. “Y’know, like when a b***h has to call on his magic, it thinks its whole deal is about making people go cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs about whatever they feel is missing in their lives. Same as how your magical sphere is—what? Feral wolves? Nogitsune? Graveyard dogs? Stop me if I guess it.”
Judging by the universe-assigned furry ears that came with Red Vines (Arawn)’s fuku, any of those seemed like a fair enough guess. Nogitsune, probably less so than the other two options, but maybe that was simply down to Reiki’s own sense of aesthetics. If Cosmos-Or-Whoever had assigned him the role of Universal Magical Girl Costume Designer, any senshi with fox or fox spirit-related magic would’ve had a fluffy tail on their belts and it would have looked delightful (in Reiki’s own mind, anyway).
But that, he supposed, was a moot point. Not only had Cosmos never asked for his opinions, but she never would. After all, she sounded like a busy lady. She probably only cared about important senshi like Blossom and Ida, not annoying, attention-hungry try-hards like Reiki, who only wanted to be a hero and a main cast character so badly because he knew, deep down, that he was neither.
Watching the others as they took up their seats and pastries, Reiki stayed by the table, arching one brow and crossing an arm over his chest. Only one, though, since his other hand had a hold on his cup of hot water that would eventually be tea. (……Very eventually, since it still mostly smelled like hot water, rather than starting to pick up any of the tea leaves’ scent, but—well. This was why Ojiisan always counseled patience, even though Reiki had perpetually failed at heeding his advice most of the time.)
With a shrug, though, Reiki added, “Speaking strictly for me, I’m much more interested in learning about everyone’s names and senshi magic than what’s at the center of any given croissant.“
Names were important, since not everyone took as well as Kerberos did to being given whatever ridiculous, word association nickname Reiki could bestow on them. Magic, likewise, was important, since it defined who they were as senshi. The filling of a croissant………barely mattered long enough to finish eating the pastry in question.
“But you,” Reiki nodded at Red Vines so nobody else could get any ideas, “you can pick a second plate and take my croissant if you want it.”
Super Lete of Decadence Action: Projecting Good Vibes Only, Mirror fam!! Also, she’s eating a croissant and giving Arawn a second plate of them, per what Muri said.
Part of Lete wanted to chime in and tell everybody that they didn’t have to pay attention to the obnoxious, treason-plotting tree in the fluffy skirts……but really, wouldn’t that have been giving Muri exactly what he wanted?
Yes, Lete decided as she made her way to the table with the croissants and swooped in beside of the boy in the gray (Laon—at least his side that wasn’t currently occupied by his………brother? boyfriend? unspecified beloved special person?). Yes, making any kind of stink about Murikabushi’s inability to Not Play Well With Other Mirror Senshi would have defeated the entire purpose of ignoring him and projecting Good Vibes Only. He was banished to the Shadow Realm, as far as Lete was concerned. He simply and truly Did Not Exist. And as long as Lete focused on taking her croissant, she didn’t need to give a damn about Him Who Did Not Exist Anyway.
A muffled, delighted little noise escaped her mouth as she took a bite of her croissant. Ohhh, chocolate!! Some kind of subtle notes in there as well, something that she couldn’t identify, but whatever it was, she liked it.
As much as she wanted to ignore Muri, though, he had said one useful thing. In keeping with it, Lete snatched up the spare plate beside her and nudged it over toward the boy in the gray and, more importantly, the boy in the red beside him. “Might as well take the seconds if they’re being offered, right,” she said with a smile.
_Guine
—the sad part is that Arawn being irascible does make Muri find him more endearing.
xKyuseisha no Hikari
your boy is being sassed, Laon, but Arawn is also being offered free croissants. Also, Lete is on your non-Arawn-occupied side.
MercilessMimex
at least one of my kids is playing along, Telesto. Sorry about the other one.
Remarque wasn’t really much a fan of games, not ones that involved food. But, he was a team player, and Telesto had gone through great lengths to set this up. He’d play.
As others made themselves comfortable, he did a little round about the Common Room. Just to make sure Mirrorspace wasn’t trying to break into pieces, just to make sure there were no monsters in the mirrors.
Everything here seemed safe, no reason to get worked up for nothing.
He knew there was still time and space for those still arriving, so Remarque made his way to the far side of the table to make sure they had space.
Though he’d been here to help Telesto set up, even he didn’t know the specifics of his plans for the night.
“Mithra,” he said as he passed her. “You’re going to play too, aren’t you?”
So far as he could tell, there was no way to tell one from another. He picked the one in the middle of his plate and held it up for a bite.
Oh, toothpaste. Disgusting. He chewed, but lowered the croissant after just a bite.
“...It’s delicious,” he tempted halfheartedly.
SSBrosB
oops sorry for the double quote
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2024 6:28 pm
Super Sailor Laon Action: Talking to Murikabushi and Lete and Telesto, holding onto Arawn
Laon’s eyes snapped to Murikabushi, and for all the gentleness and friendliness he was trying to exude, there was something very hurt in the way he looked at Murikabushi.
He kept his grip on Arawn’s arm and held him tightly as he placed the croissant down on his plate. Arawn, please, you probably weren’t supposed to eat all of the toothpaste.
Laon couldn’t help it, he was fiercely defensive of Arawn. Even if he knew how he could be. Murikabushi had been acting standoffish since he arrived, of course Arawn was going to pick up on that and react. He was very sensitive to the emotions of those around him, even if he tried to snarl and bite and keep everyone at a distance.
Yes, he was rough around the edges. But he wasn’t bad! Murikabushi wanted to know their names and spheres but Laon had already clammed up when it came to that idea. What was the point, was Murikabushi trying to insult Arawn with those guesses? Was he trying to be mean?
He spoke to Murikabushi quietly because he did not want drama, but he couldn’t just say nothing. “If you came here to make friends, you could try a little harder.”
Telesto wanted them to have a chance to get to know each other. To make friends. Laon was trying. “You’re too pretty to have such bad manners.”
Maybe Lete was trying to calm things down, but the plate of food she offered felt offensive. Actually, yes, he loved seconds. Maybe not toothpaste or chocolate croissants, but there was still homemade gyoza and an array of everything else on the tables just beyond them. And he was going to try some, because he told Kore he would, and he wanted to.
“Thank you,” he said to Lete, because she was trying to be polite. And Arawn was making his best effort to assert dominance by showing off his ability to eat questionable food, anyway. He tried to soften his tone and relax his shoulders, and said to Telesto, “And thank you, for setting all of this up.”
Arawn wasn’t going to jump across the table or anything, he was very civilized and very well behaved. Laon held onto him tightly, just in case. He wondered if there was still time to shove the rest of his croissant in his mouth so he wasn’t tempted to shout anything snappy in response.
amorremanet
Guine
MercilessMime
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Crew
Dragonslaying Dragon
Online
Guine
Crew
Lonely Explorer
Online
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2024 6:34 pm
Super Sailor Arawn, Dark Mirror Senshi of Cŵn Annwn Action: Trying very hard not to launch himself over the table at Muri. Thankfully has Laon to hold him back.
“Huh??” Arawn responded loudly with clear mocking confusion. “You’re so interested in names, but you’re making names up anyway,” he barked across the table. “So what is it, hypocrite?”
Everyone else was being tame. Arawn knew he was causing a scene. He knew the senshi who set everything up (Telesto) would probably be angry. Remarque would probably be disappointed.
But Murikabushi was so far the only one to not play along with the game that was set up for the whole point of camaraderie. How dare he make demands and critique what took place in what order when Arawn hadn’t seen him set up any gatherings like this!! For all Murikabushi knew, the next part of the evening would be set specifically for introducing each other.
But no! Murikabushi had to prance around on his little high horse because…???
“Come closer and I’ll show you my sphere,” Arawn’s bared teeth were no longer that of an unpracticed smile.
He would have loved to lunge across the table at the wannabe primadonna, but Laon was holding so tightly to his arm. Laon was still trying to be friendly.
--Too pretty to have such bad manners--
“Looks more like an ugly b***h to me,” he growled under his breath, although he by no means tried to keep his voice down so that Murikabushi couldn’t hear.
His snarl turned on the other senshi (Lete) who was talking to him. Handing him the croissant that Murikabushi was too good to eat. Couldn’t even play along for a little game. How dare he show his face and claim to want to know them and then make a mockery of something someone (Telesto) obviously put a lot of effort into?
“No,” Arawn refused the plate, although the temptation to try and shove it down Murikabushi’s throat and seeing what his supposed allergies did was very strong.
“Leave it. Others might have time to join. Might as well let them feel included since the off brand Barbie thinks he’s too good for the rest of us.”
When Remarque passed her she wanted to say that she would join but her look of disgust at the horribly wasted, in her opinion and Tom would be sad too when she told him about them being filled with crud, pastries and the game...
She quietly shook her head. "If there's one thing I don't mess with, it's mystery food." She could take a surprise for anything else, even something that was violent and might possibly hurt her.
But something that could possibly not only stomach churning but could possibly make it to the point where she saw her lunch again? No.
If there was any weakness that Remarque wanted to find with her, this would be it. "You do not want to see what I ate for lunch today." She whispered to him quietly as she then walked over to get some water. Just the thought of an buttery/oily croissant with a disgusting taste, well that made her want to make sure her stomach was balanced, at least for the moment.
She came back to sit next to him, attempting to take a peak inside of the croissant he just ate and had barely tried to declare delicious. The smell of mint hit her nose. "Yeah, that's a nope for me." She said, glad that she had water in hand to keep her stomach from being upset at the thought of the combination. "You want me to go get you some water?" She asked the Prince, keeping an eye on his complexion to make sure it wasn't turning green.
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Mithra is a baby when it comes to mystery food lol
For his part the game seemed strange. How would they get to know each other better by eating terrible food. Were they going to see who could eat the most disgusting food until someone eventually lost it?
He picked up a croissant randomly. 2/3rds chance of it being disgusting was not good odds and he was not going to force something in his mouth that he may have hated. He wasn't sure what exactly he hated yet, but tonight could help him find out.
He ripped the croissant in half and made a face at it's contents. Toothpaste? One wasn't even supposed to eat that in normal circumstances. Was this Dark Mirror trying to poison them? He left the wasted croissant on his plate, put his elbows on the table he was sitting at and ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be a funny story for New at least. Maybe he should take a random croissant back to him just so he could have the same experience he did.
At Murikabushi's call, Telesto looked over to the other senshi, nodding gently. "While I can assure you that everything in the pastries is edible and not something like earwax, I understand that allergies will exist and not everyone is comfortable with mystery food. The other activities will not have a dining basis. As to names, that is the goal of the next activity, but first is to give everyone a shared experience they can use to strike up conversation. But please, avail yourself of the less mysterious foods, and hopefully our second activity will be more to your liking." They smiled to the super senshi, clearly not offended or bothered by the remarks, turning back to the table and waiting for the rest as seats filled and croissants began to disappear from plates. They blinked a little at some of the eagerness, but who were they to judge? Maybe croissants were really in these days.
For their own part, Telesto lifted a croissant to their mouth and bit down, red liquid leaking out from the new hole in the croissant. A harsh cough ripped through Telesto's throat as their eyes started to water. The host had apparently made the mistake of the exceedingly spicy croissant; maybe now they had some regrets about this particular game. They had grown up around spicy food, but hoo boy that may have made them too ambitious.
They took a moment to gaze at the others who had partook in the game, holding back a cough-laugh at Remarque's attempted salvage. "If you think that was delicious, I have other concerns about your diet we may need to touch on..."
Taking a drink of water and blinking through some forming tears, Telesto stood up from the table. "Well, I am glad to see spirit amongst everyone. Better to have a party with yelling and frustration than a quiet one, I say." They gestured to the long table, where a mirrored-surface platter holding a pile of croissants had been added alongside the rest of the food. "For those who missed the positive flavor, the chocolate-matcha croissants can be found on the dining table. If anyone was subjected to the other two flavors and wishes more, I suppose that could be arranged too, albeit with concern..."
"Now then, as Murikabushi pointed out, bonds are formed best when identity and strength is shared betwixt us all. Some of you may already know one another, and surely everyone knows the Prince, but for the sake of assurance, let us all share in kind; I can speak for myself at least that I know nearly none of you, and would like to change that." With a look that certainly wasn't evil but may have been akin to a dad whose child had just walked right into a dad-pun opener, Telesto's watery gaze fell over Murikabushi again. "As you have already completed two-thirds of our second activity, would you be so kind as to continue as our first participant? The goal is to name yourself, your sphere, your favorite color, and one (1) skill you have in battle that you believe makes you a reliable comrade."
"Everyone else, in the meantime, may think of their own responses, and speak in order after."
amorremanet
No worries! Outside looking in, super weird scenario to be in, Telesto is just weird like that. Besides, what's a party with no drama? But also, uno reverse on you!
Quote:
Activity Two Introduce yourself! Don't worry about an actual order, just when you post feel free to include your senshi nodding to whichever vague entity just went before them, or call a specific person if you wish! Your senshi just needs to tell everyone: 1. Their name. 2. Their sphere. 3. Their favorite color. 4. A battle skill they want to share.
Latecomers are welcome to join in! If you'd like to join and play the croissant game, they can find instructions on the table, and you can find the rules here!
The next ORP scene post will occur a little over 48hrs from this posting, expected to be on Jan 24th at 10pm PST; just to give a little extra time with Mondays and such. Please include your character's name and a link to their journal at the top of your post!
Posted: Wed Jan 24, 2024 3:38 pm
Super Murikabushi of Hunger Action: Clapping back at Arawn and Laon. Answering questions. Being The Drama, as he does.
The little one in the gray (Laon)—super senshi, yes, but clearly young and the sort of too skinny that far too many people Reiki knew had, at one point or another, mistakenly believed at all enviable—quickly earned himself a pointed arch of an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend is snarling at people and acting like he’s going to bite if someone looks at him wrong,” Reiki pointed out (without any real sense of judgment in his tone when it didn’t feel necessary for relating a factual account of what had been happening so far). “But I’m the one with bad manners for……asserting a personal boundary about the croissant game, talking back instead of laying down and taking it when your boy snapped at me for no reason, and trying to guess his sphere based on his fuku? I get the concept of standing by your man and all, but please, make your logic make sense. Because the math here is not math-ing, for me.”
Codependency like that almost made Reiki prefer dealing with……Kailene? Helfeng? The sunshine and rainbows Saturn Idiot, and the alien senshi with whom he felt compelled to do ridiculous PDA like they were still in eighth grade and declared whom they were dating this week by loudly making out all over the couches in the student lounge, or every hallway they remotely considered private, or wherever.… Only almost, though, because no matter how cranky the little one felt at Reiki or how much Red Vines snarled and snapped, their nonsense benefitted from a distinct lack of being declared a friend without any real say in the matter.
(Dealing with Helene on his own might have been the best option, honestly, since he provided a triple threat of internally consistent logic, decent manners, and not calling any old Jane, d**k, and Aidan a friend completely out of pocket. Unfortunately, he and Kaifeng seemed like they’d become something of a package deal since Helene had found his way to Earth, and hypotheticals were quite a bit less than helpful.
At least Red Vines had more spirit in him, a fact that earned him a small, wry smile. “Never said I was better than anybody,” Reiki pointed out, “nor would I have when, again? I only know two of the people here tonight—” By way of indicating them, he nodded toward Lete and Remarque, “—and arguing over who’s better or worse by someone’s arbitrary standards sounds like it would undermine the entire point of this little shindig, no?”
Frankly, trying to say that he was better than anybody sounded like a recipe for disaster, when Reiki knew better than anybody all the ways in which he fell short at being much of anything. Part of why he needed to leave the Court came down to how badly he had failed, on a deep and fundamental level, at the bare minimum of being any kind of Dark Mirror senshi. Yet, he was leaving them for the White Moon, and he probably wouldn’t make a very good White Moon senshi either, not least given the abiding sense of compassion for a Negaverse General-Sovereign who, as easily as breathing, did more horrible things than Reiki even knew.
Yet, running to the Negaverse wasn’t really an option for Reiki either, since their brand of Chaos would probably just constitute another way of somebody magically forcing him to be someone he wasn’t. Maybe it wouldn’t wound him personally as much as Dark Mirror Chaos had. Maybe the injection of Chaos directly into a starseed would have hurt more in the short-term but grown to be a pain that Reiki could’ve lived with, unlike the smothering suffocation of Dark Mirror Chaos that made him feel like he was drowning with no dry land in sight.
Like, why even bother defending his habit of giving people nicknames because calling them hey, you was significantly worse and far more insulting, in Reiki’s mind, than calling them by a name that wasn’t theirs? Something something, 🎵 you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand 🎵, something something, it wasn’t as if either of these kids was actually interested in learning about Reiki’s perspective. Why learn about growing up, on one hand, bilingual—mixing the perpetually casual, flazédah bullshit of English with the nuance, subtlety, and respect for courtesy of Japanese—and on the other, dehumanized by being not-irregularly denied the privilege of any name? They were kids, probably only a little bit older than Sailor Untitled Goose Game, and whatever all they’d been through to get here, it had—as far as things seemed to Reiki—made them less interested in learning anyone else’s point of view than in insisting that theirs was The Correct ******** teenagers. Senshi over the age of 21 honestly deserved babysitting compensation for putting up with this s**t. Where was Miss Supermodel of the Cosmos and where was her ******** manager, Reiki wanted to register a complaint. (……Not really. Like as not, he’d get over it in a little while and calm back down. But he needed to be Dramatic about it first, even if only in the privacy of his own head.)
But—well, Red Vines had said other things, too. Things that Reiki personally found far more intriguing: “By the way, if you wanna talk about reading,” he went on, tone earnestly going for helpful as he looked at Red Vines exclusively, “you have the spirit and you’ve got some fundamentals down, but your technique needs work. You can’t just call me an ugly b***h when half of the insult is obviously you being contrary about something your boy doesn’t even believe. He called me pretty to make a point out of my alleged manners, not because he actually thinks so. Then, the other half of the insult is something that I’ve already said about myself and robbed of its rhetorical power. At that point, you’re just stating a fact, but without the pointedness of some ‘Not a joke, just a fact’ follow-up, and what does it accomplish to tell me something that I already know?”
It was always like this with baby queers who’d been through Some ******** s**t and probably dealt with people calling them all kinds of insults that hurt but didn’t accurately reflect reality. Sharp edges and tongues like knives, but no finesse to speak of. So depressing, not least when they could so easily do so much better for themselves and make an art out of clapping back at people, rather than just throwing random insults like napalm and hoping that someone else’s feelings got hurt. Honestly, it would’ve been a crime for Reiki not to offer Red Vines some guidance before he bid the Court adieu.
“You have sharper observational skills than that,” Reiki went on, pointing out something that seemed, to him, pretty obvious. After all, Red Vines had picked up on what sort of doll Reiki was while kitted up as Murikabushi, and someone who snarled at potential threats like that struck him as someone who might easily notice things that others didn’t.
“When you want to read a b***h to filth, you need to use those skills. The real power of reading lies in telling the truth—highlighting something the other person can’t deny—but in a pointed, creative way. So, you look for specific things about someone—things like their phony smile, or their shady personality, or how they fuss with their hair when they’re lying—and you hold up a mirror to those things but without naming them exactly. Meaning, you don’t tell a b***h that they’re a b***h; you get creative and tell them ‘Gurl, maybe you should eat your makeup instead of wearing it. That way, you can be pretty on the inside, too.’
“And for the record,” he concluded, experimentally sniffing his tea, “my fuku does belong on a Barbie; thank you for noticing. I also do off-brand Bratz doll and off-brand Monster High looks. But those are more of an ‘in my non-senshi time’ kind of thing.”
Which would have been quite enough talking, and more than enough failure at not making himself the center of attention.…… Apparently not, though, because apparently, the host had it in mind to turn Reiki’s everything around back on him. Fair enough, honestly, but it also meant that Reiki was all too likely stuck here until the party ended.
Unless Mirrorspace decided to explode and catch fire or something, Reiki guessed. If that happened, he could probably wriggle out of here in the chaos after the mess got cleaned up. But, being honest with himself, Reiki thought it sounded far more likely for Elsa to show up out of thin air and declare that everything was forgiven and he didn’t hate Reiki after all, even if Reiki didn’t adore being a Mirror senshi in the same way that Elsa clearly did.
Alas, hypothetical situations remained maddeningly unhelpful, so Reiki took a few steps forward, sashaying around the senshi in the green so he could be closer to the table with everyone else. He’d already failed at not making a spectacle of himself, so the only sane and sensible thing to do was, it seemed, just giving up and leaning in to his own normal ways of being, and milking this spotlight for as long as he had it.
For a moment, he considered introducing himself with, I’m Murikabushi and I like *boys*—a *LOT*. And I’m a homosexual………but that felt all too likely to get Red Vines set off and snarling about something or other because he might not recognize the reference.
For another moment, he considered the possible introduction: Murikabushi: actor, dancer, homosexual………but honestly, the movie both of those ideas had come from had to be at least five or six years older than Red Vines and the little one in the gray, and if the little one in the gray saw such appallingly bad manners in Reiki trying to be himself more quietly than usual, then who was to say he wouldn’t get up on some kind of high horse about Reiki acting sooooo stereotypical, or giving other queer people a bad name by not behaving himself in a way that comforted the straights and assured them that he was really just like them, or whatever?
(It was, he realized, really not fair to project anything like that on the little one in gray when he hadn’t actually done anything to suggest that he was one of the LGBTQ people in this world who valued fitting in and assimilation more than anything else besides his boyfriend. But as long as Reiki didn’t make such accusations out loud, he couldn’t get in trouble if the little one in gray wound up proving him wrong.)
Ultimately, Reiki decided to just go with the host’s general format for introductions: “Hi, hey, hello, as already said, I’m Murikabushi, senshi of making people go cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs—or sometimes making them go cuckoo for alcohol, special intimate significant other time, narcotics, starseeds, or whatever else they might hunger for. It’s giving very ‘Hunger doesn’t only come from the body; it also comes from the soul’ teas.”
Huffing softly, Reiki flipped his long bangs back off his face. “My favorite color is black, and in combat? Well, I learned how to fight to try and avoid getting shoved in lockers. Honed my skills while protecting folks from getting jumped outside the bar where I perform, or sometimes outside my drag story-time hours. Said performances require me to stay both strong and flexible—I’m not on a Simone Biles kind of level obviously, but a six-four glamazon doesn’t get to pull off backflips and assorted stunts without putting in the work.
“And not that anybody asked for an interesting fact about me—” But Reiki was already on a roll, so why not flip the Uno Reverse back around and add something to the formula? “—but my top five go-to performance songs are Megan Thee Stallion’s ‘Thot s**t,’ ‘Primadonna’ by Marina and the Diamonds, ‘Montero (Call Me By Your Name)’ by Lil Nas X, Hole’s ‘Celebrity Skin,’ and the iconic, utterly incomparable version of ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ from Queen Judy Garland’s legendary 1961 concert at Carnegie Hall.
“Soooo……that’s me……” Reiki considered the two people he recognized, then decided to look to Remarque instead of Lete (who seemed content to ignore him and Reiki was honestly content to let her). “Remarque? You want to go next?”
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Laon, sweetie, I’m sorry for this mouthy-a** b***h thinking that what Arawn needs is to insult people better, not to stop underlying behavior
Guine
……blanket apology for Muri and his nonsense emotion_bigheart orz
MercilessMime
Muri like “oh no, I will not be out-drama’d by this law school-a** b***h, I am not the one,” soz XD
When Telesto spoke, regret surged through Laon rapidly and it felt like he’d been dunked in a cold wave. He was always nervous about meeting new people, especially when he was worried that he didn’t belong. Remarque had been there when he and Arawn had awakened so he’d always thought–hoped–that meant that them being senshi wasn’t an accident. Hoped that meant Remarque wouldn’t decide he’d made a mistake and kick them out.
He’d been upset on their host’s behalf, but all of that emotion felt suddenly displaced. The man hadn’t been upset by Murikabushi’s words at all. In fact, all he’d seemed to hear were Murikabushi’s words.
Were they friends? Was Murikabushi someone important?
Laon was afraid to look at Remarque. He didn’t want to see him upset. Or disappointed.
They should have waited until he came to the table and just followed him. Or stayed back at the other table. Or not come at all.
Their host seemed like he was unfazed by any of the tension but Laon absorbed it like a sponge. He didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. Did he have a favorite color? Did he have a skill in battle? Could he be considered a reliable comrade?
Probably not, no. He had a lot of doubt in him. Arawn must have been uncomfortable and resorting to his habit to lash out, but he hadn’t really come to make friends. He was humoring Laon, or trying to.
Laon didn’t much feel like introducing himself. Realistically, he knew he was being ridiculous. That was what they’d come here to do. He just would have been more comfortable if he’d been able to turn himself invisible, probably. Especially as Murikabushi spoke. And spoke. And spoke.
The sudden headache wasn’t helping his disposition; he raised a hand to rub at his eyes in an effort to dispel the sharp, singing sensation erupting from behind them. It felt like his head was being pressed between two walls.
Murikabushi was so condescending. How could he say all of that with a straight face and pass it off as advice? Was he trying to coach Arawn on how to be insufferable? Was he trying to be insufferable? Why did he sound so happy about it?
At some point, Laon stopped listening. He tried, he really did, the words just stopped making sense. He didn’t know any of those musicians. He’d never heard of Simone Biles, he’d never heard the word glamazon before.
He didn’t have the self confidence or ego that Murikaushi did so he just stood there while he went on. Murikabushi seemed like he liked talking. He seemed like he was used to people listening, too.
Laon’s face was hot, and if he was going to put in the effort of speaking, it wasn’t going to be to correct Murikabushi and tell him that he actually did think he was pretty. How was he supposed to say anything nice after all of that? Apparently you could be pretty and have bad manners, because dressing anyone down in public seemed like bad form and like it was undermining the entire point of this little shindig.
The rest of Laon’s thoughts were foggy. At some point, his eyes had fallen back to the croissant.
Maybe he was being dramatic, maybe he was misunderstanding. Maybe Murikabushi was saying all of this in good fun. It just didn’t feel very fun.
He didn’t want to hear whatever Arawn was going to snark back at Murikabushi. Remarque’s name had come up at the end of whatever Murikabushi was saying, and it was an uncomfortable reminder that they weren’t surrounded just by an audience of people he didn’t get to know, it was also Remarque. Who they were going to have to see at work tomorrow.
Laon kept his gaze down so he didn’t have to see anyone or anything but the slightly nibbled croissant as he stood. He moved slowly and hoped he didn’t draw any attention to himself in the process.
He squeezed Arawn’s arm tighter, like a silent plea. His head throbbed with every heartbeat, but it felt more constant now. It took him a moment longer to find his voice, and when he did it was to quietly whisper, “My headache’s back. Can we please go.”
Arawn bristled. Heat rose to his face with unparalleled embarrassment. Not for his actions, but because this incredibly rude Senshi had not just ignored him completely, talking to Laon as though he weren’t even there, but turned around and was being condescending to him. Obviously mocking him and talking, talking, talking.
He wanted to put his hands over his ears. He wanted to lash out and punch Murikabushi. He wanted to throw the stupid croissants in his face.
No one seemed like they were bothered by it.
No one seemed to care that this aggressively loud and talkative man was drowning out everyone around him. In fact, others seemed to encourage it. Their host certainly seemed to favor Murikabushi’s refusal to play his game over Laon’s polite words of thanks.
Why had they bothered trying to defend their host at all, when it didn’t matter?
Arawn didn’t want to introduce himself to these people. He didn’t care if Remarque kicked them out of the court after this. He and Laon would figure things out. This gathering only proved something Arawn knew for fact -- he and Laon only had each other to rely on.
He hadn’t realized his breathing had gotten more irregular, nor that his heart rate had increased until Laon squeezed his arm. He felt dizzy. Sick. Shamed. Humiliated. Mocked.
Was this the court Remarque lauded? Was this the group of people they were supposed to get along with? The only person who’d been kind to them was Kore. The other one who’d tried giving them Murikabushi’s croissant (Lete) was just as enabling as everyone else, so he couldn’t even consider her as kind. More like trying to keep the boat from rocking.
Arawn turned and lifted his free hand to gently direct Laon’s head closer to him so he could kiss his temple.
“Yeah, we’ll get you some medicine and rest.”
He was done. He couldn’t even stomach thinking about taking some of the food that was brought on the way out. He didn’t want to talk to these people any more.
Some court.
Exit for Arawn and Laon
Guine
Crew
Lonely Explorer
Online
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Crew
Dragonslaying Dragon
Online
Posted: Wed Jan 24, 2024 6:48 pm
Prince Remarque Action: Talking to Mithra, Telesto, and Murikabushi / answering the questions
Remarque was quiet for a moment; he hadn’t interrupted whatever was going on between the group at the end of the table, though he seemed ready to intervene. Laon and Arawn made that decision for him, though; they stepped away. He wore a somewhat serious, contemplative expression, like he wasn’t quite happy but was keeping those thoughts to himself.
For the sake of the party, he wasn’t going to drag anything out. Tonight was supposed to be an evening of camaraderie, where they strengthened their bonds.
Nothing would come of a public spectacle, and he’d check in on those two after this.
For now, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he looked at Murikabushi from across the table. “You want me to go after that?”
He wondered how Murikabushi spoke so much without being out of breath.
“I’m Remarque, Dark Mirror Senshi of Puppetry. I don’t know if I have a favorite color. Green, maybe.” He was thinking about money, though. “Battle skills–”
He paused and looked up at Mithra before he nodded. She was close enough to know that he was still grappling with the taste of mint in his mouth, so water was sounding like a very good idea, especially now that he was speaking.
She was smart not to have had any. “I’m sorry, Telesto. Where did you find someone willing to make you toothpaste flavored croissants? I can’t imagine you placing that order.”
The image was a welcome amusement.
“I try to stay pretty well rounded, I guess. I used to box competitively, not so much these days. Busy with business. My magic lets me string people up, so that’s come in handy. Always open if anyone wants to spar, though. Before we get into trouble.”
Mithra saw Remarque's nod at the water question and quickly got up to get him some. By the time he came back and she was able to give it to him, he was done talking.
"Well, guess I'll go next." She said to everyone and no one in particular.
"Name is Mithra. Sphere is Mantis Shrimp. Favorite color is forest green, and battle skill... I guess I'm known more for my punches, but getting a good kick in is something I like to do as well. I'm a personal trainer so I've dabbled in boxing and kickboxing a bit." It was nice to have some introductions, at least for the ones that she didn't know. Unfortunately it seemed that some of the Senshi that she hadn't seen before had already left.
She hadn't been listening into the conversation, but she was a bit put out that she wouldn't be able to at least learn who they were. Perhaps she could ask Remarque after all of this. If she remembered and didn't immediately feel the need to go to bed.
Bellerophon let out a small grunt when he realized it was his turn. He was only sad that Itokawa wasn't here to introduce themselves as well. "Uh, Bellerophon. Sphere is Chimera, the mythical beast, not the medical condition." He wished he didn't have to make that distinction every time to new Dark Mirror. But he figured it was better to do so than not, even if his outfit looked more like the former.
"Favorite color... black." Did that really count? Well it didn't matter, it was what he liked to wear most after all. "I didn't really have any fighting skills before I was awakened as a Senshi, so my Senshi skill is breathing fire."
SSBrosB
Springtime Noob
Offline
MercilessMime
Offline
Posted: Wed Jan 24, 2024 10:56 pm
Sailor Telesto Action: Watching, judging, planning, and introducing the third activity!
Telesto watched the scene with a passive expression, just taking it all in. They were the new one among this court and weren't aware of the dynamics that existed, and they had been dormant for so long, this was a good way to learn about the world at large in this time. Assimilating in that information was still going to take time, but this was enlightening. It was also worrying, but it was not their place to dress down the court or make any public spectacle. There were problems, clearly, but a group dynamic did not seem to be the prominent feature. That was okay though, things took time and there was history here, history they had to learn still.
One was clearly unhappy with things, and lashing out to make others dislike them. A defense, usually taken before an exit. That was troublesome, but unhappy warriors did not make good warriors; perhaps it was for the best, if their assumption was correct. If not, then they needed some help and a better way to use all that passion.
Two of them were close, which was good to see, but just the two. Two did not an army make, but it was something to build on, at least. The one had fought for a bit, but Telesto could see they took a lack of action as a lack of support. Which was fair to take as an assessment of things, and it would be improper to judge them too critically when they did not know they were being judged. The spark was there, they just had to know that others would help fan the flame.
The Prince kept calm, but Telesto could guess he felt similar. They would have a lot to talk about later, they were sure; to get the powers of the two who had left, at least. A boxer was good to have though, and magic to restrict others helped.
"You would be amazed what a bakery will make when you ask the right questions and explain it is for a strange game. They are certainly hoping that I do not return with such an order, I am sure," Telesto answered to Remarque, chuckling gently.
Another melee fighter, not bad to have. More reserved, but closer to the Prince. Good to know some bonds existed already. Green again, interesting.
Fire breathing? Now they were talking, that was the sort of magic to see. Unexpected and some range to it, which was nice. A flanker, maybe.
"I am Telesto, the Senshi of Pressure. I am fond of the color silver, or purple if you do not consider that a color, and in battle I am adept at creating a focus point for which myself and my allies can strike at in unison to create a break in defenses." They took a moment to adjust some of their attire and nodded again to the crowd. "These introductions have been enlightening, thank you all. I can see there is a lot of emotion, if concentrated a little bit amongst us, but bonds are not forged in cold furnaces nor overnight."
"I believe our third activity may be of benefit in releasing some tension and frustrations," Telesto said as they stepped aside, revealing a pedestal holding a watermelon, a tub of watermelons on the ground beside it, and a large target board across the room; it really was amazing what the Mirrorspace could do with just some hidden view areas and a moment for dramatics. "Now that we have spoken of our battle prowess, we can put a little show to it. The closest to the center claims victory. The watermelon need not remain whole, and so chunks arriving at the center will also result in victory. When you are ready, step up, take your aim, and strike as you would wish."
Kyuseisha no Hikari
It's okay, Laon! Sometimes it is just all too much.
Quote:
Activity Three Watermelon Launcher! Again, no actual order for this one. Just go on up and hit that watermelon! Hit success depends on a 1d20 roll (again either in real life or your favored online roller). 1 = Whiffed it, absolutely. 2-9 = Hit to the outer rings, level 4. 10 = Hit to the middle ring, level 3. 11-19 = Hit to the inner ring, level 2. 20 = Bullseye, dead center, level 1!
Latecomers are welcome to join in! Those who haven't introduced themselves before this activity may consider themselves prompted to introduce themselves and then take their hit on the watermelon.
The next ORP scene post will occur a little over 24hrs from this posting, expected to be on Jan 25th at 10pm PST. Please include your character's name and a link to their journal at the top of your post!
